


There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls

by MyFandomCausesHanaji



Category: Chinese Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, 博君一肖, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV) RPF
Genre: "Is that angst? That's angst.", Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Chatting & Messaging, Crushes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Yibo is emo, because apparently we are calling this angst now, i promise there is nothing bad there, it's just a bit bittersweet, it's not really angst okay, they are talking about going snowboarding aight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-20
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-10-24 21:40:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20712959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFandomCausesHanaji/pseuds/MyFandomCausesHanaji
Summary: "Me, you, Verbier, in two months.""Who is Verbier?""Ski resort in Switzerland.""Wait..."





	There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Do you really want to set the night on fire?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20425472) by [MyFandomCausesHanaji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyFandomCausesHanaji/pseuds/MyFandomCausesHanaji). 

> This was supposed to be an interlude after Chapter 4 in my [ongoing fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20425472) but I got inspired by someone beating me to posting angst for this fandom, I got salty, and it got way too dark to fit that fic, so it is a oneshot now, enjoy.
> 
> Thanks pommeideas for checking this out for fuckups!

He is tired of doing everything alone.

Well, technically he never _ is _alone. Constantly surrounded by people, the layered circles of them ― his manager, security guards, the crowds outside the studios where he arrives for shootings, the bystanders a bit farther with their phones up and cameras running. The people on the planes, the people on the sets, the people in the photo studios, the camera lenses and ingratiating eyes of the journalists doing the interviews… 

His phone with often three-figure numbers of unread notifications in various apps. Eyes on him, always, constantly, watching his every step, waiting for him to slip, to stagger.

It is flattering in more ways than one. There is a certain energy in this, the vibe a crowd gives. Look at us, Wang YiBo, smile, show us what you can, show us a _ cool guy _. 

Sometimes, he feeds on it, standing in the center of all this attention. He couldn’t care less about all these faceless people but he likes their adoration. It is addictive, this constant flow, and it is hard to stop when it gets too thick, it’s hard not to get overdosed on it.

Sometimes, this energy this crowd gives makes the air thick and sticky around him, and he would choke, if he could allow himself to lose face in front of all those eyes and cameras looking his way.

At those times he craves isolation, he craves to be alone in his flat, among the things on the shelves that are _ him _, and clothes in the closet that he bought himself. Where he doesn't have to keep his posture straight and his expression closed.

He is never alone, except for when he is in the tiny dark hotel rooms or in his flat, too big for just one person. 

It feels lonely either way.

He turns his phone off the moment he closes the door of his flat behind him. He has an agreement with his manager, up to five hours he can be out of the contact once in a while, when she knows where he is and when nothing is planned for the next one or two days. 

A few hours of freedom that show that his life doesn’t belong to him more than any other time when he is doing what he is told to.

He doesn’t mind it, it’s just there are days… 

He turns on his computer and sits in the chair, sighing tiredly. There are a few still open tabs in the browser, from the last time he was at home and was planning that ski holiday he and Xiao Zhan wanted to spend together, but failed to.

He closes the browser and clicks on one of the video games icons on his desktop.

He is not sure why he is angry. Xiao Zhan doesn’t really owe him anything, and he more than anyone knows how hard it is to find room for personal life and hobbies in such a tight schedule.

But even now the thought of it is still a bitter taste on the back of his tongue.

It must be how rejection tastes like. Only it wasn’t even that, not really.

Certain things are not meant to be done alone. 

Certain games can not be played by a single player, certain skills are harder to learn when there is no one to guide you or learn by your side. Certain things are not as enjoyable when there is no one to share them with.

He misses his _ UNIQ _days sometimes. Not just the dancing, but the comradery, the thrill of practicing new moves along with the friends.

Motorcycle, skateboard, he’s learnt on his own. He is somewhat amused and a little bit saddened that whilst being exposed to so many people he can’t find anyone to actually share his hobbies with. 

They find it silly that he collects lego figures. They find it amusing that he is so excited when he is asked about motorcycles. He is _ craving _ for someone to say, yes, please, tell me, let’s talk about this, I _ understand _you. 

It is disgustingly lonely…

He pauses the game and rolls back on his chair. The rows of the boxes with his helmets in the hall, the shelf with the small lego cars, warm light coming from the corridor, falling on the floor, blending in with shadows. The quiet hum of the PC under his desk and a slightly louder buzzing of a fridge in the kitchen. It is supposed to be silent, he probably didn’t set its legs properly, he will have to look at it sometime later.

He blames it on the darkness. He turns the lights on to scare the thoughts away, but it doesn’t really help. Too used to the buzzing of strangers around him he doesn’t know how to be alone. What to do with all the thoughts suddenly swarming his mind, little daily disappointments, bigger and older regrets he is dragging with him because he has no time to actually look into them, do something about them.

Grandiose plans and silly little hopes, that manage to somehow survive side by side in his mind making him question his priorities.

He hates those times. Being left alone ― finally! ― with his thoughts with nothing and no one to mitigate. Perhaps it is one of the reasons he’s been adopting one hobby after another. 

It takes almost undivided attention to learn a new skill. There are no places for _ what if _s when his whole concentration is on something external.

He doesn’t like looking inside himself. He doesn’t enjoy what he sees. 

He bends down, dropping his face in his palms, and weeps. 

He weeps over a few but so important for him failures he’s had ― not winning when he wanted to, his skateboard slipping from under his feet, his motorbike not starting when he relied on it so much... 

He weeps over the small embarrassing moments he’s had on various TV shows, because there are always some, and he is really good with handling them, never showing that they bother him in any way, but it is still something that he didn’t come out as a victor in, and it hurts...

He weeps over having to dodge his mother’s questions when she wonders if there is a girl he likes, he is so young, and handsome, and popular, sure there must be someone...

He weeps over the certain values he has and has to give up in favor of something else...

He weeps over people misunderstanding him, for not seeing him for who he is, when he has to fight tooth and nail for every acknowledgement, and they would _ still _ call him cute, he would _ still _ be a baby for them.

What else should he do so people stopped seeing him as a child?

How old should he get so those who matter, stopped thinking of him as a _ kid? _

What switch should he turn off in his head to stop wishing for something he is not allowed to have?..

It never lasts long, never lingers. Doesn’t really take roots in his mind. Just brief moments of weakness, that he is too aware of at such times, and in the safe space of his apartment, surrounded by his things, he just lets it be, lets go of the reins he has on his mind all the time.

He calms down fast, too used to already to be in control of his emotions. He stands up and walks to the bathroom to clean up.

It never makes him feel better, those times when he allows himself to feel sorry for himself just a little. But somehow he feels that it would be worse if he pretended that those things don’t bother him.

He returns to the computer and brings up a browser.

What’s the point in having priorities if he can’t make them flexible enough?

They asked him once what he’d gotten from the year he worked on the _ The Untamed _, and he answered that he’d acquired a new good friend. But it is so much more than that, and that sounds as if he has so many friends like that, as if Xiao Zhan has nothing on a few other people YiBo considers friends. 

He dreams that Xiao Zhan didn’t come, that he spent the flight looking at an empty seat beside him.

He dreams of the room in the chalet being too big and too dark just for him. 

He dreams of falling into a feverish sleep and then waking up in the middle of the night, when someone opens the door and walks into the room, and YiBo throws a pillow in the face of the intruder, too late realising that he’s given them a weapon.

He dreams of Xiao Zhan’s apologetic smile, when he walks into a spot of light that is falling from a small lamp on a nightstand, and YiBo beats him with a pillow for almost not arriving, for arriving so late and scaring him in the middle of the night, and for something else that has been building itself up deep in his chest that he recognises but doesn’t want to name or form into words.

He dreams of more ― more than he can actually allow himself to dream of during the day hours, but it somehow feels right when he is asleep.

He wakes up and he doesn’t let himself be hopeful, but a little part of him is squealing in anticipation in the back of his mind, and during the next two months of shootings, interviews, shows and events he allows himself smile just a little bit more.

**Author's Note:**

> [ 194 missed calls on Yibo’s phone holy shit ](https://m.weibo.cn/status/4401324466478496)   
[ snowboarding is a common hobby ](https://youtu.be/bGWQIOoVtSM?t=178)
> 
> My other BJYX fics:  
[Slow build, ongoing](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1469345)  
[Soulmates AU oneshot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20666324)
> 
> Don't be a stranger  
[**Twitter**](https://twitter.com/KamuiRil) [**Tumblr**](https://myfandomcauseshanaji.tumblr.com/)


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